Dragonborn of Zero
by Wrathkal
Summary: Short snippets of a Dragonborn summoned in the world of Familiar of Zero. Not a full story, won't be continued. Possible spoilers to the series. DISCLAIMER: I do not own either of these series.


**This is just a one-shot I wrote while my muse refuses to help me on my main story. The idea of Familiar of Zero's Louise summoning someone not from canon has been used many times, and it's always interesting to see what people can come up with, like gabriel blessing's Hill of Swords. Having been sidetracked playing Skyrim for the last few weeks, I decided to try writing the Dragonborn into the world of Familiar of Zero. However, since I'm not entirely familiar with the latter (apart from fanfics), I'm following the example of Black Knight in Halkegenia, a FoZ/FSN crossover, and writing just short snippets. Please enjoy. **

**At the end, I'll be putting a list of the stuff my Dragonborn has done, but most of it will be quite clear from the story itself.**

* * *

Louise Françoise le Blanc de la Vallière was nervous. This was the one day she was looking forward to the most, yet dreaded as well. At her teacher's prompting, she stepped forward, tuning out the snickers and whispers of her classmates as she advanced to the front, and raised her wand.

"I beg of you..."

Elsewhere, in a realm, a plane entirely different from the one where the summoning was taking place, a warrior put away his bloodied mace to let it hang from his hip, and beckoned to his horse, a black steed with glowing red eyes.

"My servant who lives somewhere in this universe!"

He wondered about his life. The World-Eater Alduin was dead, slain by his hand. The civil war yet raged, and he was still undecided on which side to take. The Night Mother called to him again, the Listener for the Dark Brotherhood, to take on another request from one who had performed the Black Sacrament. It was honestly getting tiring, and he wished for a change. Perhaps he should join the Companions in Jorrvaskr? Or maybe just change the way he killed, like using his fists alone instead?

"Oh sacred, beautiful and strong familiar spirit!"

Dark business finished, he traded the shady armor of one of Nocturnal's Nightingales for the more imposing Daedric set he had personally crafted and improved with skills honed from pounding out hundreds of iron daggers, bolstered by enchantments he himself had placed on a different set as he forged it, and further raised by potions he himself had made with ingredients he had gathered. Honestly, the warrior errant had a lot of time on his hands. Enough time for him to not only obtain various dragon shouts, but four artifacts of the Daedra: the sword of dawn, the dread mace, the star of the night sky, and the shield of the taskmaster.

"I desire and plead from my heart!"

Perhaps too much time, considering he was now hearing a young girl's voice speaking to him despite being in the middle of a thick forest, where no girl was likely to be. Scratching his head before replacing his helm, he wondered if the mad jester Cicero had infected him with the illness of insanity. So preoccupied was he with his thoughts that he did not notice the green portal appearing in front of his mount.

"Answer to my guidance!"

Still in his thoughts, he spurred his shadow steed forward, and noticed the portal too late to avoid it. As he passed through it, his emotions were filled with anticipation for some new adventure.

DOVAAHKIIN

The explosion that occurred with the conclusion of her spell was larger than all her usual failures, and Louise felt a stirring of hope when she saw a shadow in the smoke that arose. Her head tilted back, following the sharpening outline as the smoke cleared, and her eyes widened at the sight of what she had summoned.

Black armor, spiky in appearance with red veins visible on the chest and arms, a being that was clearly a warrior sat astride a horse that looked like it was born of the night and flames. Its very presence was enough to silence those among her year-mates who had started muttering about the Zero's latest failure. This was a being who was no stranger to battle, and everyone present knew it.

The warrior was confused. This did not look like any place in Skyrim he knew, and he had been to many of them. What was more, some of the people- no, children- around him had hair of color that could only be obtained through dying, yet they looked naturally grown. Dismounting, he approached the closest person, a small girl with pink hair who barely grew past his hips, and knelt to look her in the eyes.

She started back, and he realized that his appearance must be startling for her. Odd, considering that the children of Skyrim's cities were used to seeing such things. He removed his helmet, revealing his polished tan features that had made many women swoon.

He was surprised when his attempt to communicate resulted in a kiss from the girl, and a heat that ran through his body, leaving a mark on the back of his left hand.

Being used to manhandling by forces beyond his control, the warrior decided to find out the reason for his presence in this place, and stayed his hand. For now.

DOVAAHKIIN

Louise was furious, but she held her tongue. It would only result in her defeat if she chose to engage her familiar in a verbal battle, as she had found out many times before.

It was inexplicable; every time she ordered her familiar to do something he should be doing as befitting his status as her servant and familiar, he would start fingering the triangular-shaped pendant he wore, and point out all sorts of things that culminated in her grudging withdrawal of her request. Just how was he so persuasive?

Louise wondered if there was some form of magic on the amulet he wore, but that was impossible. She hadn't heard of any magic that would do such a thing. And besides, her familiar had clearly stated that there was no such thing, and she was inclined to believe him.

There. There it was again. How did he do it? And where did her familiar go? All that was left was the empty set of armor in her room.

She found herself shivering when her eyes touched the mace he carried. There was something about that weapon...

Louise curled up under her covers and tried to ignore the malevolence of that weapon and sleep.

DOVAAHKIIN

He found himself feeling more irritated at the current system in this place than the one he had encountered in Skyrim. Magic being the mark of nobility in this place? It would be like saying the College of Winterhold was a school to train rulers, and the Holds were ruled by the court wizards while the Jarls served as their stewards. The idiocy of it was enough to make his head hurt. And when his head hurt, he wanted to bash things. So far he had refrained from doing so with that annoying pink girl that called herself his master, opting for the more peaceful solution of persuading her out of whatever crazy idea she had, but his limit was rapidly approaching.

It started just a while earlier, when he spotted a blonde girl with oddly-shaped hair arguing with a blonde boy he had spotted with another girl while he snuck around exploring the new castle he was in. He recognized the mark of one who was seeing two women at once, and decided to ignore it.

However, he could not stand by when the maid he had accidentally stumbled into as he went around a corner was accused of theft. She was a kind girl, as he deduced from their interactions last night, and frankly, she did not deserve this unfair treatment. Besides, if anyone was to do any thieving, it would be him. He was the Guildmaster of Riften's Thieves Guild, after all. And Delvin Mallory had told him he was the 'best damn thief' among them, even if he wouldn't repeat it ever again.

So, he stepped in, and now he was back in his armor, ready to deal a good old-fashioned bashing with his mace to the foolish fops who had challenged him. Or at least until the pinkette told him not to kill anyone. The warrior sighed; the boy was a fool, of course, while the girl probably had air for brains, but maybe they could be given a chance. Still, he kept his mace ready. It was odd; his body felt much stronger and lighter, along with a warm glow on the back of his left hand, where the runes that marked him were.

After announcing their names and some pompous titles that the warrior didn't bother listening to, the lad flicked the rose he carried, sending a petal to the ground and creating a metal golem in its place. Beneath his helmet, the warrior raised an eyebrow in surprise and admiration; he had fought a few conjurers of his own, but to see someone conjure a Dwemer construct... granted, it was smaller than a Dwarven Centurion, but certainly it was an accomplishment.

One blow of his mace later, and that admiration was gone. Unlike the hardy Dwarven metal, this golem was made of brass, and its innards were empty, devoid of the advanced construction that every Dwemer construct functioned on.

He raised his shield when the girl chanted, recognizing the lifting hand action as a precursor to the casting of a spell, and sure enough, a spear of water hit the ward his shield was enchanted with, but failed to penetrate it. Their magic was clearly unlike any he had seen, but he had no time to ponder, as they attacked again.

The boy flicked his rose again, this time making three golems, this time with weapons. He blocked the attack of the first with his shield, its weapon crumpling against the ward that arose with it, and used it to bash it back. Before the other two could attack, he dispatched them with two, almost negligent, swipes of his weapon, before making a small jump towards the crippled first one, and cleaving it into two with a powerful downward smash.

Sweating now, the young mage flicked his wand again as his partner attempting to wear down the warrior's defenses with more water magic. Six golems rose up, all armed, and they prepared to attack.

The warrior scoffed in his head, already familiar with his opponents' skill, and put away his mace. Everyone paused; they thought he was giving up. But instead, he was going to show them the gift of his destiny. Maybe then they would rethink their opinion of him.

Golems and mages all lined up, he took a deep breath, meditated on the words of Force, Balance, and Push for a moment, and shouted.

"FUS... **RO DAH**!"

They were far away enough that the impact wouldn't kill, but they would have broken bones to regret their folly.

Best of all, that young girl finally stopped treating him with that annoying superiority, and politely asked his name.

"I... you can call me Dragonborn." He used his title... it sounded more impressive that way.

He did have to convince that other small girl with blue hair that he wasn't going to slay her summoned dragon familiar, once she found out about the source of his Dragon Shouts.

DOVAAHKIIN

"Tell me more about the world you came from." Louise asked, intent on learning more about her strange, powerful familiar.

The Dragonborn thought about what to say. She wasn't likely to believe him if he talked about slaying Alduin, and the mention of his expeditions as part of the Thieves Guild would probably insult her pride. And the Divines know how would she react if he told her about the Dark Brotherhood, or the Night Mother.

"Well, according to all the city guards I've talked to, they all used to be adventurers like me, until they took an arrow to the knee." It was the one thing he found extremely puzzling. Why didn't they get better knee armor?

Louise looked at him strangely, and decided not to ask anymore. Instead, she moved on to the next thing she thought of.

He listened as she proposed her idea, and finally spoke. "Why do I need a sword? I have my mace." Technically, he had a sword as well, wrapped up in his pack, but it was too much of an attention-grabber.

Louise flinched away when he lifted the dreadful mace for her to see. "That... get that mace away from me!"

"The guards said that too." The Dragonborn muttered, doing as she asked.

The shopkeeper Louise led him to seemed like a fence, but he changed his mind after seeing the golden piece of crap that the ratty-looking man brought out. It couldn't even stand up to one of his personally forged iron daggers, the one that he had made at the pinnacle of his foray into the skill of smithing. In the end, he traded it for a peculiar talking sword named Derflinger. He didn't have to use it, but it made for a much better conversation partner than Louise did.

DOVAAHKIIN

An ambush. He hated ambushes. Six of them, not counting the dead Prince Wales and the princess he had came to rescue further behind the rest. And they were grinning, their wounds on their bodies speaking of some regeneration ability, which must have been what they took the other group by surprise with.

Why couldn't the dead stay dead? Draugrs were bad enough; they annoyed him to the point that he snuck through every place that were likely places to find them, dispatching the foul abominations before they could rise. And when Meridia asked him for help in clearing her temple, he leapt at the chance to do so. Thus, he now had the perfect weapon against these things.

"Princess," Louise raised her voice, "We've come to rescue you and return you to the castle."

She tried, but to the Dragonborn, he recognized the look of one who was resistant to any persuasion whatsoever. So he sheathed the unresisting Derflinger, who had no wish to be used against the dead, and drew Dawnbreaker. The gem in the weapon was glowing brightly, testament to the presence of the undead near it.

"You had another sword?" Kirche asked incredulously. "I thought Louise bought you that one because you didn't have any!"

"Shut up and focus." He told her. "Fire's good against the dead. If that doesn't work, try to stop their movements somehow."

Sure enough, negotiations failed, but not for the lack of Louise's trying. He allowed himself to feel a brief moment of pride in his maturing summoner, before engaging the charging enemies. He took on two of them at once, defending and attacking with equal measure.

The effect he was waiting for came soon enough; a backhanded slash that sliced through one of his opponents' neck resulted in a fiery explosion that harmed none of the living, but reduced three of the undead to ashes, and struck the others with an uncontrollable desire to flee. The young girl Tabitha made sure to take the opening to stake them down with her ice spears, allowing her friend Kirche to deal with them more permanently.

Further back, the late Prince Wales was unaffected, but he was clearly agitated as the Dragonborn advanced with his sword at the ready. Suddenly, the warrior raised his shield, blocking the water missile Henrietta had sent.

Before anyone could speak, it started to rain, and Henrietta began to laugh. "God favors us! A water user is invincible in the rain!"

"Oh, really?"

Everyone stared in surprise at the person who had spoken, the Dragonborn. Did he not understand the implications? Louise immediately consulted her Founder's Prayer Book, hoping for something that could stand in the face of her familiar's apparent ignorance or insanity. Finding a new spell, she began to chant.

The two members of royalty, one living and one dead, began to chant as well. But the warrior looked up at the sky and did something that stunned them all once again.

"Lok... **VAH KOOR**!"

He cleared the skies with a shout, putting an end to the rain and taking away the advantage it had provided his enemies. Focused on her spell, Louise finished her chant, and cast Dispel upon the adolescent tornado, dispersing it and removing the dread magic that powered one of its creators.

"Dammit, Louise! You trying to dispel my own enchantments too?" The Dragonborn yelled from where he lay in the thick grass, having dove aside to avoid the area of effect.

"Huh? Wait, what happened to the rain?" Having been totally focused on the casting, Louise had no idea of the event that had just transpired.

END

* * *

**Well, that's all I came up with. I toyed with the idea of having him use Storm Call during the familiar performance, but that would be overkill. XD As for fighting Fouquet and Wardes, I don't really know... Call of Valor and Whirlwind Sprint respectively, perhaps? But that's all I'm going to write. My muse for this is done, it seems. **

**Other ideas I toyed with:  
-Using Wabberjack on Eleanore to turn her into some critter  
-Assassinating Count Mott to get back Siesta  
-Picking Louise's room door to get back in after she locks him out  
-Putting Robbaz's Badass Nord Viking (Seriously, watch that video if you haven't) in this situation**

**Anyway, here's some of my Dragonborn's stats, partially adapted from my game. Comment if you like, but it's my way of playing. If you don't like it, write your own story.**

**Race - Redguard  
Level - 40****  
Smithing, Alchemy, Enchanting - 100 (Actually I never used the exploit in the game. only my Smithing is 100)  
High skill levels in One-Handed, Speech, Sneak and Blocking (I'm actually a dual wielder)****  
Daedric Artifacts - Mace of Molag Bal, Dawnbreaker, Spellbreaker, Azura's Star  
Armor - Daedric Armor (Not in mine, it's not a good idea to diversify in both armor types), Nightingale Armor, Ancient Shrouded Armor  
Amulet - Amulet of Articulation (Obtained with Guildmaster's armor set)  
Quest lines completed: Main Quest, Thieves Guild, Dark Brotherhood.**

**And that's it. I'm done. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
